


Two Becomes One

by hislightherdarkness



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Demisexual Michael, F/M, First Time, Soft sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hislightherdarkness/pseuds/hislightherdarkness
Summary: Inspired by my post of a demisexual Michael Langdon so I decided to make it a Millory fic. Some soft first time in this fic.https://ladywriter94.tumblr.com/post/181464157795/some-demisexual-michael-langdon-headcanons





	Two Becomes One

He never thought he could feel anything like this. To love someone so much he was willing to give himself to her if she wanted him. While everyone had their minds on sex all the time, Michael hardly ever thought of it. He had once accidentally walked in on two of his classmates in the middle of what was a very intimate moment and more than he cared to admit he had to heard his fellow classmates talk endlessly about what he later learned to be sexual acts of various kinds. It all sounded too strange and even disgusting what some of them wanted to do. He would have only shrugged it off and ignored their prattles if it hadn't lead to some asking Michael very personal questions to which made them remark cruelly if there was something wrong with him. 

Ms. Mead had to explain it to him, saying that he was getting to be at that age where he would be thinking of such things, though he wanted to tell her he thought nothing of it, but kept silent so she could explain it to him. It was pretty easy to understand how sexual intercourse actually worked and why it can be a necessity, but he failed to see what made those boys all riled up. He argued and questioned Mead, unable to find the answer he was looking for. 

"What is so great about sex? It's all the other boys talk about."

"Well it's because you're all going through a hormonal stage. Sex can be pretty fun and pleasurable."

"Does it feel as good as cuddling?"

She paused. "Uh, sort of."

"Then why won't they just do that? I can understand that." Pausing he then asked, "Is there something wrong with me?"

Taking his hand, she firmly said, "No. There is nothing wrong with you. People are different. I can't really explain it or understand it myself, but there are people who feel the same why you do, or at least something similar. But no matter what, you will always be my Michael, whether you choose to have sex with someone or not."

He was grateful that Mead would accept him no matter what, but he had to figure out what was such a big deal. Later on he decided to try and masturbate, which he was able to do and while it did feel good, he was suddenly hit with an awful feeling of loneliness. The bed he was in was now so cold, big and empty. He'd rather just go without and live without any sort of sexual pleasure than have a moment pleasure and deal with the crushing aftermaths. There was those rare times he did touch himself, either to help make him sleep or let his body relax after a stressful day, he would lie in bed undressed, bring his pillows close to his body and pretend he was being held by another human being. He realized just how much he needed to be touched by another person, someone who was loving and kind. He heard some classmates mention something called a one night stand and the idea immediately made him shudder with revulsion. How could people let a stranger touch them? How do people just look at someone and decide to let a complete stranger privy to all the most inner most part of yourself, all those secrets you shared with no one else? Where was the love in that?

Reading article after article lead him to discover that there was such a thing as demisexuality and that sexual desire only forms when the person finds themselves deep in a romantic relationship. It wasn't that Michael didn't like the idea of sex, it intrigued him, he just couldn't imagine all the things that everyone said they wanted to do with the people they hoped to do it with. He tells Mead first and she smiles as she hugs him, telling him that she was glad he found something to connect to, a place to be. The second person he tells is Mallory. 

He hadn't expected to meet someone like Mallory, nor to ever feel what he feels when he is near her. When they first met, the witches and warlocks wanted to use them to prove that they were better than each other, throwing their most powerful students at each other. They were told that they both had potential to be the next Supreme and to not trust one another. Michael was always weary of people; it always felt like everyone wanted something from him but never wanted to know what they could give him. He avoided her for a good while, but one day in the library he heard a voice interrupt his reading. 

"At last," she sighed, "A chance to talk to you alone."

Standing so tall and still, Michael tried to be as indifferent as he could be. "And what might that be, witch?"

Mallory gave him a sad smile and explained, "It's silly, this rivalry. I hate that they want to pit us against one another. I have no reason to hate you and I don't think you have any reason to hate me either. I was hoping that perhaps we could be friends."

He looked at her cautiously. "Why do you want to be friends with me?"

"Because I too am not like everyone else here. You and I, I don't know. I just feel as if we are too similar as well as too different. Could we try and be friends?" Her beautiful doe eyes looked up at him filled with so much hope as she offered her hand to him in friendship. 

His gaze softened as he looked at her. He felt the sincerity in her, it radiated off her like a warm breeze. He had to admit, he hated the feud and he was grateful that someone else felt the same way he did. So he took her hand and thus began their unlikely friendship. Everyone couldn't figure it out; two enemies actually spending time together, liking each other. But it wasn't so difficult as Michael found, for Mallory was as good as she appeared and even more so. He watched in wonder as she revived some poor animal that laid dead in the woods, how she made butterflies from the plants. What amazed him even more was that when he showed how he could destroy life with the help of some poor creature she later revived, was that instead of being horrified or rejecting him, she was amazed by him. She accepted that this was a part of him, something he carried inside him and trusted him to touch her afterwards. And even more remarkable was when he told her of all the evil things he done, the deaths, who his parents were, or at least his father. He knew the witches would gladly destroy him once they found out that the son of Satan was in their midst, but he trusted Mallory. 

"I have something to tell you. I am the descendant of an angel. That's why I can do all those things I can do. And that's why I can understand you Michael. Because we are not creatures of this earth, but of one another. There is darkness in you, but there is also light. I am not always as good as everyone believes I am, but I know that a light shines more within me. Maybe we were supposed to find each other to balance each other out. Maybe together we can finally make sense."

Michael couldn't believe it; for the first time in his life, he had met someone that knew everything about him, all the good and bad, believed in him and accepted him in every way. That day Michael had a funny warm feeling inside him and he found himself almost giddy whenever Mallory was near. His heart skipped beats when she touched him and he often smiled without him realizing it. "Geez Michael, get a grip," one classmate hissed after Michael was reprimanded for not paying attention in class, "It' almost like you're in love or something." Hearing those words were like having a revelation shining upon him. He was in love, the thought excited him but terrified him. He loved Mallory, but would she love him? They had been wonderful friends for the past months and it would crush him completely if he ruined it by what he felt. A week went by and Michael was in a melancholy mood, happy to be near Mallory, but also saddened at the idea that he would never hold her the way he would long to. Mallory finally decided to ask him about it, after waiting to see if he would speak up. 

"Michael, you haven't been yourself this past week, and I think I know why." Her hands cradled his face gently, her eyes filled with a warmth that shot right through him to his soul. "Michael, you're afraid. You're afraid that I won't accept you as you are. But I do. I accept all darkness within you but I know there is a light inside you. And I love them both." In his stunned silence, she stood on her tippy toes, her hands gently guiding his face down so she could give him a kiss. He heard kisses were a magical thing shared between two people but this was beyond magic, it was-dare he say it- heavenly. He let out a breathy chuckle, carefully wrapping his arms around her waist and brought her close so he could kiss her again. 

He loves being in a relationship. Some of the students at Hawthorne hated the idea of being tied down, but Michael didn't see it like that, he preferred being bound to her, as if it was meant to be. They decided to hide it from the witches and the warlocks for the time being, seeing how they still were not fully accepting of their friendship, but it didn't stop them from being together. Mallory found a small one floor house where neither the warlocks or the witches knew about, a sanctuary for their love. He loved being able to walk with her and hold her hand, the impulsive cuddle sessions and kisses that didn't warrant a reason. He couldn't get enough of the affection she gave him and he loved to show her how much he loved her, sometimes holding her the whole night, waking her by peppering her with kisses. It all was so wonderful until one day, while they were watching a movie together, Michael noticed that Mallory seemed a little withdrawn. 

Pausing the movie, Michael took her hand. "Mallie, what is wrong?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing really."

"What, tell me."

She sighed and admitted, "It's just, well, do you think I'm pretty?" She continued before he could answer. "You never tried to make a move on me, never tried to grope me or suggest the idea of sex. Maybe I'm crazy, most other girls would be grateful to not be pawed all the time but it sort of makes me feel a bit unattractive. I'm being silly aren't I? I'm sor-"

Michael took her in his arms and hushed her. "Hey, stop Mallie. I do think you're pretty, more than that. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever known. And, now would a good time for me to tell you something." He took a deep breath and admitted, "I'm demisexual."

She looked at him confused. "What's that?"

"It's when a person can't feel sexual desire unless they form a romantic bond." Standing up, he rubbed his lips, trying to think. "It's like I am on auto pilot. I go through life in neutral while other people can choose which direction they want to go, where to land. I can only land unless it's the right place t land." Thinking again he says, getting nervous. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. And I'll get it if you don't want to continue seeing me. If you want to be with someone el-." 

Mallory stepped up, placing her hand on his mouth, stopping him. "I get it. And thank you for telling me. I bet that wasn't easy to say it but now that you said it, it makes so much sense. We can go as slow as you want to. I love you Michael, no matter what, for all that you are."

Without much warning, Michael's vision was blurred by tears, grateful to hear that she still loved him. She held him, kissing all over his face. "You are the best, Mallie. I love you so much."

Now that it was out there, Michael didn't feel as if he was carrying a weight and Mallory was better than her word. Their relationship only improved from then on, no more secrets. He loved it and he didn't think anything could change how he felt. Except one night. While in bed, his mind returned to earlier that day when Mallory and he were in their secret hideaway, together on the couch where a kiss turned into a make out session. He blushed at the idea of how heated this make out session had turned, how Mallory wrapped not only her arms around her but her legs. How her breaths were warm in his ear and how his body shook at the sensation of hearing her sweet voice moan his name. It made him feel odd, a good odd. A strange feeling deep in his stomach, like an ember waiting to be inflamed. As he slept, he dreamt of her, this time, she wore nothing, her hair spread around her like a halo and him with her. Just like how it was earlier, they were kissing, but Mallory's hands ran up and down his bare torso and her nails softly ranked across his arms. He gasped as he felt her hands reach for him below, bringing his member inside her. He couldn't explain how it felt, but it was warm, loving, powerful. 

He awoke gripping tight onto the pillow, moaning her name and his body racked with waves of pleasure as he reached his peak. Once his breathing and heart beat slowed, he realized with shock that he had an actual wet dream, that his body reacted all on it's own and this time it was actually satisfying. As he laid there, he realized that he was ready to make the next step. 

They had already planned to sneak out that night and meet at their little house and Michael thought it was the best time to tell her. For the rest of the day into the night, Michael was filled with a sudden sensation of excited nervousness. Michael had excused himself early and snuck out, getting to the house a half hour before they were meant to. Slipping his shoes and coat off, he paced all over the small area, unsure of how he was going to tell her. And then he was hit with sudden anxieties; what if she decided she didn't want him after all, what if he fails to please her. Or worse, what if she doesn't love him anymore? After brushing his teeth for the third time within that time, Mallory showed up at 11 on the dot. Stepping out of the bedroom, he froze, staring at her in wonder. 

She looked breathtaking. Wearing a white dress with black embroidery, she looked like an angel. How odd, he thought, a devil in love with an angel. She rushed into his arms, her black ballet shoes flying off her feet as she jumped up to reach and wrap her arms around his neck. "I miss you. Everyday I miss you."

"I feel the same way. I don't know how long we can keep doing this, hiding away from everyone."

"I know. But it won't be long. I feel it."

His heart was thumping hard in his chest and he felt himself being aroused by her warmth, the way her body pressed against her. Stepping back, taking her hands into his, he said, "Mallory, I need to tell you something."

"What it is Michael?"

He bit his lip and then said. "I'm ready."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Ready for what?"

A blush over came his face as whispered, "I'm ready to make love to you." Seeing the amazed look on her face, he then stammered, "If you are, that is."

Mallory nodded. "I would like that very much."

Kissing her hands, Michael lead her to the bed that had only held memories of sleeping and cuddles that they had shared together. "So, how do we start?"

"Well, 99 percent of the time it starts with a kiss."

A nervous chuckle left his lips. "What's that one percent?"

A mischievous smile ran across Mallory's face. "With a laugh."

Before he knew it Mallory pushed him onto the bed, laughing. Michael rolled over to dodge her, laughing as she bounced up and her hair completely flipped over her face. Curling up against him, Mallory caressed his face as their laughter subsided. Smiling down at her, Michael felt his heartbeat go faster. Wrapping his arms around her, he asked, "You nervous?"

Mallory heard the crack in his voice as he asked that. Michael had always been the most confident person she had ever met, always so self assured so to see him vulnerable, it was what made her love him. The fact that despite everything that had happened to him, all the darkness he carried, there was still the good-hearted boy that wanted to be better. Smiling tenderly, she shook her head. "No." Pressing feather like kisses to his cheek, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Make love to me Michael. Please."

He closed his eyes, admittedly enjoying the what she asked him to do. Bringing her in closer to kiss her, their kisses increased in their passions, clinging to each other as if it was the last time. Mallory pulled away and rolled over, allowing Michael to carefully unzip her dress. His fingers danced along the warm flesh, making Mallory sigh. Turning back over, Mallory tugged at his sweater, slipping it over his head. He let out a whimper as he felt those slender hands run over his body, just like his dream, only better. He slipped the dress off her, tossing it aside and stared at her in wonder. Wearing simple white underwear, Mallory's cheeks were colored with a rosy blush but instead of covering herself, she sat up and removed her bra. Michael knew that the anatomy of a man and woman were different, but how he never really knew. He felt his whole body warm up at the sight of her breasts. They looked so...supple. 

Mallory giggled. "Michael, I can't be the only one undressing. It's ungentlemanly to leave a lady hanging."

Snapping back into reality, Michael clumsily began to remove the rest of his clothes, watching her in fascination as she slipped her panties off. Now completely undressed, it was Michael who suddenly became self conscious. "Um, Mallory, I just want you to know-actually warn you that I might not be that good. You're my-I'm a-"

"Michael. I know." Mallory moved closer, her head resting on his shoulder. "And besides, it's not like I have anything to base you off of." He looked at her in confused wonder. "Yeah, I'm a virgin too." Kissing his lips, she took his hand and began to lead him backwards. "I'm ready Michael."

He knelt before her, his hand resting on her knee. Looking over her, he realized just how perfect she was. From her small feet, to those warm thighs, she was a work of art. His hand ran up from her ankle to her knee, reeling in the soft skin. Mallory looked at him through hooded eyes. She hadn't expected this to be a sensual experience, but watching Michael look at her in awe, gasping as he placed soft kisses on her knee and up her thigh, she couldn't think of anything in this moment but Michael. His lips carefully grazed her skin, leaving a beautiful agonizing yearning. He wanted to kiss everywhere, to feel her under his lips, leave nothing untouched or unloved. His lips found their way to her core, only meant to leave a kiss but hearing her gasp harshly, he paused and looked up at her. She saw his concern, afraid he hurt her, but she only nodded and rasped out, "More."

Anything to make Mallory happy, he went back to where he was, pressing kisses all over, watching her as she moaned and writhed.  "Oh Michael." He quickly fell in love with the way she sounded, and he continued, placing her leg over his shoulder, allowing him better access as well as the joy of letting his hand run up and down her slender leg. As a wetness began to grow, Michael recalled what one boy had boasted during school, and began to carefully run his tongue over her. She let out a loud gasp, her hand going right to Michael's hair. Michael loved watching Mallory, he swore he could have cum just the sight of her and he nearly did when he felt her spasm underneath his lips. He removed himself from her core, pressing sloppy kisses to her thigh and up her belly. His hands engulfed her breasts and he moaned at the sensation. Mallory pulled him in for a kiss, her hands brushing up and down his arms, making Michael shudder at the touch.

"Mallory. Oh Mallory."

Her hand landed on his member, looking up at him. "Are you sure you want to?" he asked, wanting to give her a chance to back out.

She nodded. "Are you?"

He smiled. "I can't imagine myself with anyone else."

With her help, he slipped into her and once in, they held onto each other tightly. It was such a foreign feeling and yet it felt so right. Pressing kisses to her cheek, Michael slowly moved his hips, moaning as he did. He watched as her eyes closed and her lips parted, the sweetest sounded released and her body entwined with his. This was so much for Michael, to feel her everywhere all at once, he thought this was what happiness truly felt like. Michael knew he was touch starved, he ached for the touch of another more than most people, which often lead to problems for Michael growing up. And to be here, here with Mallory, as she loved him, held him, it was much for him. He kissed everywhere he could; her lips, her face, shoulders, neck, breasts; anywhere his lips could reach. He wanted to melt into her, become one with her. 

The slow and sensual way he made love to her was something she couldn't have ever imagined she'd know. She had to smile to think that while some of the other witches wondered what kind of a lover he would be, she would be the only one to know; to know that he was hers and hers alone. Their foreheads pressing against one another, she rasped out, "Tell me. Tell how this feels."

"I-I don't know if I can."

"Try."

He gasped, his hands wrapping around her back. "Warm. Achy. Beautiful."

She pulled him in for a deep kiss, her hands lost in his golden hair. Her voice was in low whispers as her eyes stared at him with all the love the world could ever offer. "Michael. Michael! I love you." 

At that, he buried his head in the curve of her neck, feeling his body reach to a magnificent peak, whimpering as he came. Her body clung to him as she came along with him, her moans and gasps were music to his ears. They stayed so still for a moment, trying to gain some composure. Mallory felt Michael shaking in her arms, curious, she took his face into her hands to let her see and she was amazed to see tears there. "Michael, what's wrong?"

He smiled and said, "Nothing. Just...thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving me." There were so many more things he wanted to thank her, for being in is life, for trusting him, accepting him, but those words would suffice for now. 

Mallory smiled warmly, kissing his tears away, loving him even more than she did before. She laid his head on her chest, her legs wrapped around his body, her arms cradling him as her one hand softly combed through his hair as she pressed her lips against his forehead. 

As he laid there still shaking, tears softly flowing, he finally understood. He finally understood what was so incredible about going to bed with someone. It's not only a special moment in which two bodies become one, but that two souls may join together and love in a way that no one else on earth could love or create. He never thought he could feel anything like this, an immense pleasure in loving another person. In loving Mallory. 


End file.
